One might have heard then that menacing, Herodian rumble in his throat.

He seemed to caress the table with his hands.
"Dear Appius! Good Vergilius!" he muttered, seizing a piece of vellum and crushing it in his hand.

"Soon my power shall close upon you.

And Arria, my pretty maiden, you shall repair my heart with kisses." A pet kitten leaped upon the table.

It seemed to startle him, and he struck it dead with his hand.
Then he sprang up suddenly and looked about, a feline stealth upon him, and ran with catlike paces to the deck.
"Get to work, you sea-rats!" he roared.